


Tuesday Morning

by bashert



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, post-3.04, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 04:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3368087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bashert/pseuds/bashert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>MacKenzie visited on Mondays and sometimes on Wednesdays when she could swing it, Charlie on Thursdays, but Tuesdays were the days that Jim came. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tuesday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> This was for lilacmermaid25's January prompt which was:
> 
> Mackenzie and the team set up a visitation schedule for Will while he’s in prison, so that someone is there every time he’s allowed a visitor. Pick any Newsroom character and write about their visit(s).
> 
> Better late than never, right? And I recognize that I didn't follow the prompt exactly. (That's what I get for not checking the actual prompt before writing it.) The title is from the song by the Pogues. Enjoy!

MacKenzie visited on Mondays and sometimes on Wednesdays when she could swing it, Charlie on Thursdays, but Tuesdays were the days that Jim came.    
  
It started on the second Tuesday that Will was in there (which was one more Tuesday than everyone thought he _would_ be in there). Jim showed up, hands shoved in his pockets, summoned there by a phone call from Will.   
  
“I need you to look out for Mac,” Will said, his tone serious, his eyebrows sloping in concern. “While I’m in here, I just… I need to make sure she’s okay.”     
  
“Yeah, of course,” Jim nodded, immediately agreeing.   
  
Will didn’t go into the details, didn’t tell Jim how Mac also knew about the source, had talked to the source, and how that scared the ever living shit out of him. (He needed to protect her. Even if it was from behind bars. If he thought, even for a second, that she was in danger, or that someone might use her as leverage, he wouldn’t hesitate. There wasn’t a single thing he wasn’t willing to do to keep her safe.)   
  
Will knew that Jim would take a bullet for his wife (maybe even _had_ ). He trusted Jim with Mac's life (which meant more to him than his own did).   
  
So their weekly meetings began.   
  
The main topic of conversation was MacKenzie. Was she sleeping? Eating? Taking care of herself?   
  
Will remembered all too well how she looked in the aftermath of Genoa. Her pale face, the dark circles under her eyes. He couldn't stand to see her like that and know that he was the reason.   
  
But Jim's reports were reassuring.   
  
"She's really okay," he told Will. "Honestly."

And she was. She would tell Will over and over on her own visits to the jail. But he had been afraid that she was making sure to put her make up on, cover the dark rings under her eyes. He was afraid she was telling him things she knew he wanted to hear in order to ease his concerns.

But she wouldn't have been able to hide it from Jim. And Jim wouldn't have lied to Will. At the very least, as awful as things were, Will had the knowledge that Mac was taking care of herself. (Whether she was safe from outside forces was a whole other story, and Will had hinted, heavily, to Jim that there might be reason to worry. Jim, to his credit, hadn't asked questions that Will wouldn't have been able to answer.)

Once that was established, they'd talk about work. About Pruitt, and how the wind seemed to be sucked right out of Charlie's sails. About how Mac was forced to either bend or take a stand against Charlie, neither of which was an appealing option. 

Will started looking forward to these visits, genuinely enjoying getting to know a little more about Jim without Mac as the go between.

He had forgotten that he was trying to keep these visits from Mac, and accidentally let something Jim had told him slip on a Wednesday visit.

"Who told you that?" Mac asked, eyes narrowing. Will wondered if he could blame Charlie, but knew that was a lost cause.

"Jim," Will admitted.

"When did you talk to Jim?" she asked in a dangerous tone.

He could have lied. Could have said that Jim's visit was a one off, or that he had called to ask Will a question about work.

He didn't want to lie. They had had enough lying in their relationship. He knew she wasn't going to be happy, but she'd be even unhappier if she found out that he was lying about it.

"Yesterday. He comes by on Tuesdays." Mac's eyes widened in surprise, and then she slowly shook her head.

"You're unbelievable!" she exclaimed. "I know what this is about."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he hedged. "Charlie visits me, you visit me, sometimes Sloan does, Don's come a couple of times."

"Do they all spy on me for you?" Mac asked in a low voice. Will rolled his eyes.

"No one is _spying_ on you," Will argued. Mac gave him a look that very clearly stated she thought he was full of shit. "Okay, I asked Jim to make sure you were okay while I was in here. Is that a crime? For a husband to want to make sure his wife is okay?"

"Did you think I'd just fucking fall apart while you were in here? You think that _little_ of me?" Mac cried.

"No," Will shook his head in frustration. "That's not it..."

"Listen here, pal," Mac pointed a finger at him. "I'm not some shrinking violet. I'm not going to fall apart because my husband is wasting away in jail."

"I know that you're not..." Will tried, but Mac wasn't having any of it.

"I took care of myself for _years_. I kept myself alive through a _warzone_ ," she continued, her voice rising.

"I _know_ that!" Will exclaimed, loud enough to earn a reprimand from the guard. He lowered his voice, "But you don't _have_ to."

Mac deflated.

"It's insulting," she said softly. "That you think I can't take care of myself."

"That's not remotely it," Will told her. "Fuck, you take care of yourself far better than I've ever been able to care of myself. I just… worry." He shrugged helplessly.

"I know you do," Mac reached out to take his hand, before remembering where they were and pulling her fingers back.

"If something were to happen to you, while I was stuck in here, I would never fucking forgive myself," he continued.

"Nothing is going to happen," she reassured him. But he wasn't convinced. His ability to think the worst had him imaging a thousand scenarios that end up with Mac in jail right along side of him, or worse, hurt, bleeding, _dead._

He wished he didn't know that she knew who the source was. He wished she just didn't know who the source was, _period_. Lasenthal proved that he was not fucking around. Wasn’t Will still sitting in jail a sign of just that? Lasenthal would use MacKenzie if he knew, of that Will was sure.

“I just… it makes me feel better, knowing that you have Jim,” Will told her. Mac’s face softened. “And I’ve actually come to enjoy his visits.” At that, Mac’s face broke out into a grin.

“You’re a softy deep down inside, Will McAvoy. Your curmudgeon act is fooling no one.” He wanted to be annoyed, but it was hard with that smile on her face. He fought not to mirror her grin.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled.

“I’m really okay,” Mac’s voice was firm. “I’m hanging in there. I know I was a little bit of a mess while we were apart, but there’s a huge difference between then and now. Now? I know that you’re coming home, at some point, eventually, you’re coming _home._ To me. You’re coming home to _me_."

Will swallowed hard, and nodded. But he was more determined than ever to keep his Tuesday visits with Jim.

Because he had to make sure that Mac was there to come home _to_.  



End file.
